


Love of an Angel

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [94]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, And Now For Something Completely Different, Angel Stephen Strange, Demon Tony Stark, Don't copy to another site, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Plot Incoming!!!, Sexual Tension, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 12:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Stephen ignored the implication, “its not possible,” he said, despite the evidence before him. “Its not natural.”Tony looked at him again but this time they were no longer his familiar brown eyes. No, he was met with the pure black abyss that marked a demon, the absence of a soul. That alone should make Stephen back away, flee this godforsaken place, yet all it did was inexplicably calm him.“Some would say the same about us.”





	Love of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I may have gone too far this time.....  
> Also no attachment to fallen from grace or risen from damnation.

   Stephen didn’t move from his place next to the towering maple tree, mesmerized by the array of fall colours fading in the light of the setting sun. He found himself ghosting his fingers over the gentle veins of the closest leaf, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips.

   Fall, he decided, was his favourite season to visit Earth during. Everything from the above was always so sterile, so blinding and while it uplifted the soul with the ever-present brightness, it was nothing compared to the intricacies found here in the simplest of forms.

   There was the clear sound of crackling leaves, approaching footsteps, and Stephen couldn’t help the anticipation that began to brew in his stomach, the urge to grin widely barely suppressed. It had been too long since sensing that powerful aura, looking upon his enemy.

   “I swear you need to get out more darling, that leaf can’t be more exciting then me.”

   “Its beautiful,” Stephen replied, not averting his gaze and gently plucking it from the branch to hold in his hand.

    “And what about me?” came that familiar teasing voice, as suited legs entered his peripheral.

   Stephen finally looked up, meeting the dark brown eyes of the one and only Tony Stark. The demon’s vessel appeared to have aged minimally, to keep up appearances no doubt, but besides that it was the same as always. The brown of his eyes hiding the hellfire, the smirk on his lips shadowing its cruelty.

   Those things weren’t what caught his eye; however, it never was. His expression was tinged with a gentleness that never failed to send his unnecessary heart thumping with some foreign sensation that was proving to be downright addicting.

   They had been doing this so long that Stephen often forgot this demon was his sworn enemy, that everything about the creature should repulse him instead of enticing him. It had become too easy to forget, but he couldn’t seem to stop and now, nearly a thousand years later, he decided he never wanted to.

   Stephen ran his gaze over the demon and offered his own small smirk, “you’ve aged.”

   The frown that glanced across his lips was one of the few thrilling signs that proved Stephen wasn’t the only one so affected. But it wasn’t long before an easy grin slid over his features, a hand coming up and fingers poised to snap, “well now angel, that’s easily remedied.”

   Stephen looked back to the leaf and shrugged as he tilted his hand to watch it swirl softly toward the earth, “I like it.”

   “Reprobi,” Tony’s eyes danced with mirth now, some of that hellfire sparking within as he reached out a hand to touch.

   Stephen stepped back abruptly, heart beating for an entirely different reason now, “not here,” he hissed, eyes darting around the forest in suspicion.

   Tony blinked rapidly, seemingly surprised by his own stupid action. Where they stood, it would be the easiest thing in the world for either of them to be seen by their masters. The horrors that awaited them should they be caught were beyond imagination and Stephen had a long memory.

   Tony tugged at his suit jacket, his own eyes weary now as he turned away, “right, follow me.”

   Stephen followed the man through the forest slowly, eyes on his back, while his mind was far away, imagining what his brethren would think of him. He liked to think it wasn’t completely his fault, he was an angel after all with very limited free will. When he had stumbled upon this demon, he had felt something… _divine._

   It had been impossible to ignore and between the creature’s charisma and confidence Stephen found himself falling under the spell of both the man himself and some strange otherworldly pull, telling Stephen to follow. He didn’t question, it wasn’t his place, he simply knew that the demon was important.

   And seemingly…the demon thought the same as him.

   “Just up ahead,” Tony called behind him.

   Stephen could see a clearing, the trees turning sparse, until suddenly the crunching of leaves disappeared into worn gravel path. Stephen stared, awestruck at he stepped into the open space, flanked by a black wrought iron gate.

   Looking out of place in the wild beauty of the forest stood a tall domineering home. Reaching two stories with an old fashion spiral straight up into the sky like some fairy tale book and breathtaking with its intricate stone masonry, it retained a haunting, ethereal quality in the quiet surrounding it.

   Stephen found himself being drawn to it, the building radiating a strange energy that felt specially designed to urge visitors closer, and visitors it had. The lawn inside the fencing was perfectly trimmed, the stones while old were clearly taken care of. The windows were dark with the slightest hint of lace curtains peaking through and the stone steps leading to the doorway were guarded by two large gargoyles, practically glistening with care.

   “What do you think?”

   Stephen turned to look at Tony who was watching him closely, taking in his expression. If he didn’t know any better, Stephen would think the man seemed nervous, eager to please with this show.

   Instead of answering his question, Stephen drifted closer, fingers trailing lightly over the closest gargoyle, looking like a snarling winged dog, “what is this place? We’ve never met here before and it seems as though its been sat in the middle of nowhere.”

   Tony approached slowly, weary as all demons were of the statues, “it’s a place where we can’t be seen or heard. Not by anyone,” his eyes drifted toward the sky, while his foot nudged the dirt beneath his shoe meaningfully.

   A sliver of unease moved through Stephen at Tony’s words, his eyes flickering shut for a moment, instinct having him reach out to the air around him, searching for the presence of his Father above, of fellow angels nearby.

   Silence.

   Stephen opened his eyes to find Tony’s sympathetic smile aimed at him, “unsettling isn’t it?” he looked out at the forest, that was quickly darkening beneath the trees. “Its strange, being truly alone for the first time. Nobody to watch and control, nobody to pretend for.”

   Stephen ignored the implication, “its not possible,” he said, despite the evidence before him. “Its not _natural_.”

   Tony looked at him again but this time they were no longer his familiar brown eyes. No, he was met with the pure black abyss that marked a demon, the absence of a soul. That alone should make Stephen back away, flee this godforsaken place, yet all it did was inexplicably calm him.

   “Some would say the same about us.”

_Us._

   The implication was impossible to ignore, wasn’t meant to be. It had been an unspoken promise for nearly a hundred years now, a desire burning between them that seemed unquenchable, untouchable each time they met.

   It was wrong. In so many ways that Stephen had lost count long ago, had felt himself slipping into everything that was Tony from the first moment they had met but it wasn’t possible, it was forbidden. All these years Tony had been confident, promising over and over again that he would find a place they couldn’t be watched and suddenly, as if by magic, here they were.

   Tony reached a hand out toward him, “reprobi,” he breathed, as if he were saying it for the first time and Stephen couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine. “Come inside with me.”

   He stared down at that hand, the one he had only ever brushed, held briefly to steady him on numerous occasions and felt a pull that was nearly enough to knock him off his feet. But he resisted, Stephen was powerful, much more powerful then whatever forces were at play between them.

   “Tell me how,” he requested, meeting Tony’s gaze.

   He shrugged, unconcerned, “friends, people desperate to get on a powerful demon’s good side. Look at the fence.”

   Stephen did, this time examining it closely in the dim light and he saw it. Magic, he’d been right, of course it was magic. Hanging off the spears on the top were not the crippled vines Stephen thought they were, it was wreaths and herbs intertwined with little brown bags containing a variety of small white symbols on the fabric.

   “Not just the wiccans though,” there was pride evident in Tony’s voice, as he swung the offered hand to point at the gravel beneath their feet. Stephen inhaled sharply at the dull glow only beginning to radiate on the tiny little stones…moonstones, like pearly teardrops. The fey, Tony had gone so far as to have the fey sanction the land.

   Tony grimaced slightly, “you won’t like this part darling but look there as well.” Stephen followed the finger until he noticed the splash of red on the steps, leading up to the door and upon closer inspection, could be seen on the nearest window sill.

   “Tony,” he murmured, wide-eyed.

   “I know, I know. Vampires are volatile at the best of times, but I got lucky with this coven, barely needed any convincing at all. They were happy to lend a little of their mysticism and we needed it.”

   Stephen swallowed thickly, trying and failing to hide his disgust, “anything else?”

   Tony pursed his lips, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “well…”

   Stephen sighed, “just tell me.”

   “You wouldn’t have noticed but the entire forest around us was scent marked by the werewolves, enough to keep any sensible demon out and by extension your lot as well.”

   Stephen found himself taking a step back, overwhelmed and non so happy with the demon’s efforts even as it all made sense. Those four factions were capable of hiding them from the eyes of heaven and hell but there was no reason on earth for them to work together like this…nothing had ever brought them together before.

   “Reprobi,” Stephen blinked at him as a warm hand gripped his, the hold strong and sure. “I made you a promise.”

   The touch was grounding and _right_ and all it took to wipe the trepidation from his mind, “ok.”

   That was all it took for a wicked grin to spread over Tony’s lips and he was being tugged up the steps and into the creaky stone house. Stephen didn’t even have time to properly take in his surroundings before he was being led up an old wood staircase to the second floor and it was obvious that Tony knew where he was going because then he was swinging a door open and his breath caught.

   Tony released him, moving further into the room on his own and disappearing beyond a door in the corner. It was a bedroom, a lovely one at that, even with its obvious age. The bed in the center was nearly king sized and draped in a white canopy, seen only by the candle light strewn over the room and Stephen realized for the first time the building didn’t have electricity, it made sense really.

   Other then that the room was sparsely decorated with a large peeling wardrobe and two nightstands, and a few dressers. Stephen moved forward, smiling a little at the creak of the old floorboards, until he could press his hand into the soft covers of the bed, white and freshly cleaned it seemed.

   “What are you thinking?”

   He looked up to see Tony leaning against the doorframe to the other room, dark eyes watching him with this excited little gleam. Stephen understood completely, realizing for the first time since they met, there was no need to speak in code, to parse words, not that Tony had ever been any good at that.

   Here, Tony wasn’t his enemy. He was just Tony.

   “I’m wondering,” Stephen began slowly. “Why you put all this effort in for an angel? You’re sworn enemy?”

   Tony snorted as though the question was ridiculous and shoved off the frame, coming to stand in front of him, “reprobi, you aren’t just any angel, are you?”

   Stephen tilted his head, confused.

   Tony shook his head, raising a hand slowly to press it lightly over the place where Stephen’s heart beat its useless rhythm, the demon watching with avid interest as he murmured, “you’re mine. From the moment we met, and you didn’t kill me, you’ve been mine and I think we both know that.”

   His expression shifted then, lips turning down at the edges, eyes flicking back to brown, seeming troubled, “and crafty as you are, you went and made me yours.”

   “Have I?” Stephen questioned, knowing the answer stood all around them.

   The hand moved up and Stephen could feel it morph against his skin, the nail elongating and curving until there was the gentle prick of claws as it came to rest at the base of his throat, squeezing lightly. Despite himself, Stephen’s eyes flickered closed, leaning into the touch, body relaxing automatically, and he could practically feel Tony’s appreciative hum, sending goosebumps over his skin.

   “I don’t know how you did it,” Tony’s voice was low, a buzzing energy filling the space between them and setting them on edge. “I hated you for it, at least for awhile. But then I decided I might as well enjoy it.”

   Then that hand was tugging Stephen forward, and he went willingly, until warm, soft lips were pressed against his. It was like an electric shock to his system, instinct telling him to fight or flee the creature, but just as quickly as it came, it faded. Stephen found his hands landing solidly on firm shoulders, crushing the demon to him. It was wrong and blasphemous and a betrayal of everything he stood for, yet here he was whimpering into the mouth of the same demon he should have killed a thousand years before.

   There was a nip on his bottom lip as Tony pulled back, hellfire burning in his dark eyes in a mesmerizing dance, and Stephen knew what pure light was spinning in his own and he found that suddenly he didn’t have a care in the world for heaven and hell, good and evil, because this thing that had been budding in his chest these lasted hundred years superseded all that.

_Love._

   So, when Tony leaned forward, tongue running along the shell of his ear, Stephen simply closed his eyes and smiled at the words whispered to him, “my reprobi, finally going to make you mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> To be followed up by Lust of a Devil, which will be Tony's perspective of events to come ;)


End file.
